It’s not a good day for me. I have a sore throat and feel like I’ve got 4 gallons of snot (18 liters of mucus) in my head and none of it will come out. I didn’t sleep very well last night too. I think that I can put it down to all the stressful crap I’m having to deal with lately. I just feel really run down.

I might as well order this cake for my wedding.

The photo shoot we’re doing in few weeks is driving me insane. Something that I expected to cost a certain amount is going to end up costing about 3.5-4x more than I originally thought. The locations I choose aren’t good enough, so I just stopped thinking about where to do it. I have a nice relationship with nature. Of course, nature to me isn’t really 100% beach. I need forests and mountains. Even fields would be okay. Wedding pictures at beaches are way too overdone, but I guess this is what happens when I lose all creative control over something I was initially so excited about.

My wedding plans also keep getting watered down and downgraded as well. I’ve moved the dates around so often to suit my partner’s needs that I lost a lot of planning time. I’m’ not impressed yet. I need more time but he’s not going to agree with that, so here I am, almost 140 days away from when it’s supposed to happen and I am so unexcited, so exhausted, and unimpressed with the whole thing. I don’t think that’s a good thing.

The whole thing feels rushed, but the engagement has been floating over my head for the past two years and I really feel as if I’ve “overstayed my welcome”, so it’s probably my own fault for not being so proactive. Who knows.

A Little TMI

I’m flawed. I’m flawed like everybody, but I have a really bad habit. I tend to offer a bit too much information when people asked me. You ask me “How was your day?” and I answer “Well, it was okay. My allergies are acting up a bit and I ate an undercooked egg. I saw the scariest person today that looked like a zombie, and acted like one too. Yeah, I am doing fine. How are you?” You answer “Um, good.” Then, you walk slowly away asking yourself what kind of conversation you just had.

Scary. Super public toilet.

This would happen a lot at grocery store checkouts. The cashier would ask me how I am, and I’d have this big long speech ready for them. I’d give that speech and my partner at the time would tell me that no one really cares that much and they just expect a one-word answer.

I’m still guilty at this, but I try to keep it short. I say something like I’m doing good but I don’t let it stop there. I automatically answer back “…and how are you doing?”. I get a little disappointed when people won’t tell me their life’s problems.

I feel a little sorry for people who I deal with on an everyday basis especially when I am talking about IT, games, or health-related stuff. I go off course and throw in a lot of extra information that they probably didn’t need. I think it confuses them. I do this with J too. I forget sometimes that I just confuse him by talking, so I try to keep my talking to a minimum.

Mr. Chirps doesn’t mind though. He just looks at me like I’m an idiot. He probably wishes that he could claw my voice box out with his beak and talons because I’m asking him a million times what he’s doing, hoping one day he’ll be able to talk to me. He makes some awful noises sometimes and think he’s trying to mimic it, but cockatiels aren’t really great talkers. They can try, but they’re no good at it. They’re better singers, I’m told but jeez, this one has the most annoying, high-pitched squeak when he hears crows outside. CROWS! Nothing else but crows. It’s really irritating…

And without thinking, see, that’s what happens. You’ve probably seen this in every single one of my posts!

It is a little strange because I’m so not social. I wish I was, but I’m really not. I’d rather be left to my own devices (like my electronic stuff).

Thanks for the Choking Hazard, KFC!

Colonel Sanders must want me dead. Don’t be fooled by the smile. He wants me to die from clogged arteries or by choking.

My partner and I went to KFC last night because the both of us couldn’t be bothered to cook. It was actually my idea, because any time, it seems, is a good time to go to KFC. I guess that’s true if you’re not on some kind of diet or eating food that’s actually good for you. I guess it also wasn’t true last night but I’ll get to that a little later.

You probably already know that I have this love/hate relationship with KFC in Australia. In the USA, I don’t really bother with it unless I can get honey BBQ wings and fried okra. (Yes, our local KFC at home had fried okra and mac n’ cheese.) One of the things I love about this country is that I can get chicken salt. What is chicken salt, you may ask? It’s salt that tastes like chicken. It’s probably some kind of sick combination of chicken stock powder and salt or something. You add it to fries and BAM! The fries at KFC are instantly awesome with chicken salt. (They’re called chips here, by the way.) Another awesome Australian-like food that I love is a good meat pie. I like the ones that mix meat and cheese. I also don’t like it with ketchup (called tomato sauce here).

There are a lot of things that I like that I could go on and on about, but this post is about KFC and my experience last night.

If you didn’t get the hint, it wasn’t a great experience. It wasn’t that the food was terrible, because it wasn’t. I had gotten a Twister (which is basically fried chicken strips, lettuce, tomato, and pepper mayo wrapped in a tortilla). This Twister was really good because I replaced the pepper mayo with bacon mayo. Good stuff. This will be a bit more important later. I was eating it and near the bottom, I took a bite and got something really hard. I thought maybe it was a really tough piece of chicken but it wouldn’t break or crush. I took it out of my mouth and it was a red piece of plastic. It was probably the size of one of my fingernails and it was the same colour as a tomato. I pulled it out and showed J then said, “you know, I’m going to eat the rest of this, right?” There was only a little bit left. So I ate the rest of my Twister.

I’m not one of those people who throws a huge, gigantic fit with stuff like this. I didn’t take pictures of it and post it anywhere (even here). I didn’t threaten everybody there with the plague. I didn’t do anything. I don’t think that’s necessarily a good thing either because well, pieces of plastic aren’t supposed to be in food. I would have just let it go and had plans to just leave after it was done. My partner brought the plastic to them and told them about it because it’s a choking hazard and he’s right. In hindsight, that’s probably what I should have done. Not for free food or anything, but it would be awful if someone actually choked on another piece of plastic. It was that simple. He brought it to them and told them that it was in my Twister and we left.

As I left, I was thinking whether that would stop me from eating there. I have seen the videos of the general grossness that happens with the chickens KFC uses and it hasn’t phased me. Finding a clean piece of plastic probably wouldn’t phase me much, but it will probably stop me from eating there for a while.

I’m a bit disappointed actually. I guess it’s a good excuse to lose a bit of weight. I’m getting a little bit chubby lately. šŸ˜‰

Do you see how torn I am from this?!?

Sorry, there are no polls available at the moment.


Valentine’s Day has come and gone and it was pretty uneventful for me. I’ve never been a big fan of that day honestly. I don’t plan to do anything usually. It just comes and goes without a fanfare.

Valentine’s Day also marked our two year anniversary of getting engaged which I was reminded of a few times. I’m not so sure if that’s a good thing or not because two years is a long engagement even for me. It’s also not something I would think of being a really important date either, no matter what day it happened to fall on.

Anyway we basically just left the house and went to eat Malaysian food then went for ice cream. We got home and I think I went right to sleep.

I’ve just been so tired and run down lately that I just want to sleep and I struggle to get enough of quality sleep. It’s been so bad that I had to take Benadryl. I’ve got a little hangover from it today. Not so good. I was starting to get sick yesterday too and I feel only marginally better. If I didn’t have things to do today, I would have taken the day off. Therefore I’m on the train heading to Melbourne. I haven’t eaten anything and I’m fuelled with coffee only. I’m feeling pretty terrible.

Anyway, that’s it from me. I’m thinking about food now and I’m hungry. Off I go to stare out the window for the next 40 minutes.

The Distance Between 2 Cities

My butt is in one of these seats for at almost 16 hours per week.

I started writing this a few moments after I took this picture. It’s nothing to be proud of and nothing I’d frame on the wall, but this is how I spend most of my time. I spend almost 1/6 of my day travelling on the train from point A to point B. That’s about around 3-4 hours of my day spent most of the week.

I like to complain about this a lot, and I mean a lot. You’ve probably read something about how much I hate the commute and how I wish they’d just build a teleporter outside my front door to go anywhere I want (hell, even a one-way deal would make me happy).

I was going to make this a big long list of the negatives of my daily commute, but I’ll skip that. It’s really not all that bad, but there’s plenty bad in there.

Why I Hate It

This is easy. It’s always easier to complain about what I hate. These things are the main reasons why I hate the long commute.

Time Wasted: There’s only so much you can accomplish riding the train for so long. Since the distance between where I live and where I work/study is so big, there’s a lot of emptiness. There is no internet service on the train and the mobile towers are flaky at best (the Victorian government is supposed to be doing something about this), I can’t get any work done.

Sweet Brown probably said it best.

Alarm Call: To be where I need to be at 8 am, I have to leave home before 5:30 am. That means my mornings are usually groggy, zombified messes. It’s a general rule that if I don’t leave more than 2 hours earlier than I have to, I won’t make it. Not fun for train delays [see below].

Cost: It’s not really terrible, but I spend about $12 one way. That’s about the same amount that someone spends for an all-day ticket around Melbourne and the suburbs. If I still lived around Melbourne, I wouldn’t complain anymore, I promise!

Unreliability: When it gets hot, trains get delayed. When it’s cold, trains get delayed. When it’s rainy, trains get delayed. When it’s windy, trains get delayed. One of these delays can really screw up my whole schedule for the day. I miss one of them, I have to wait 45 minutes for the next train in the morning. On the way home, if a train is delayed, it can easily take an extra hour for me to get home. The connection times are so bad that sometimes I have to run for the bus before it leaves in 1-2 minutes.

Rude people: Some people have no understanding that people in 3 carriages do not want to hear their phone conversation about an abusive brother-in-law, what their plans are for the weekend, or how many times they got laid in the last two days. (I’m not making this up. I have heard all of this.) Parents let their kids run up and down the aisles, screaming their heads off, and being little brats. People play their shitty-ass music over the speaker on their phone. This is all in what the train calls a “quiet carriage”.

The signs people like to ignore on the train. I personally think there should be someone who works for V/Line with a roll of duct tape to tape people’s mouths closed if they violate the rules, but maybe I’m an asshole.

Everything stinks: Sometimes the seats smell like they haven’t been cleaned in over a decade. They smell like sweat and mildew. It’s really gross and gives me a huge headache. The public toilets are horrifying. (All public toilets are horrifying…)

Why I Like It

It’s not all so bad. In fact, sometimes I look forward to the trips.

Train fan: I like trains. I am not really sure why, but I like them. I’ve never actually owned any train models and didn’t love them when I was a kid. I am really interested in the history of the train stations around Victoria, like the one I live closest to used to be somewhere else and the current location it’s on now used to be some kind of chicken farm. I could spend my whole day reading about the history of trains here. I probably should try to find a museum somewhere.

Time to unwind: The trip gives me some time to rewind. I can sleep sometimes, but it’s not often. I’ve never been a big fan of sleeping in public. These days, I kind of close my eyes and zone out. It’s really nice. Early in the mornings, when everybody is still half-asleep, it’s really quiet and I can empty my head of thoughts. I guess it’s a really basic form of meditation.

Environment: I’ve told people that Australia is beautiful. Even if it’s the big open fields with trees, it’s really pretty. We get to pass mountains. There are rivers. It reminds me a lot of where I’m from in Texas. It’s empty, but it’s nice to look at. When we get to the city, I like looking at all the graffiti that’s well-done. (I don’t like lazy wall art.) Also, some of the train stations have a very vintage, nostalgic look to them, especially in the very remote towns we pass through.

Random station. Not necessarily one that I pass through.

Comfort: I’d hate to admit it, but the country trains are really comfortable. Yeah, they may stink sometimes, but they’re pretty comfortable getting me back and forth. I’m not sure how my shrinking ass would do on longer trips though. The temperature also always feels a lot better than how it feels outside. Sometimes this can make me really look forward to leave.

No driving required: I don’t like to drive. I hate it. It’s why I don’t own a car now, even if I live in a smaller town. It does get really annoying when I need to go somewhere local, but if I need to, I can get to bigger cities easily. I do think, however, that I will need to get a car soon though because it would be nice to get to the station in 5 minutes rather than 25 minutes in the morning.

Eye candy: Since I’m not having to look at the road or pay attention to anything, I can look at other people instead. Some of the people I see are really good-looking (everybody). There are some really cute train conductors. I’d hate to say it, but in Melbourne there are certain places where the train stops and there are a lot of cute people. Haha.

I guess that’s it! Super simple post about travelling. Speaking of travel, I am supposed to go to the USA at the end of the year. I will be excited to get back home for a while so I can get fat.

Pore, Pore Me (aka I hate shaving)

I just gave myself a facial. Mud mask–get your head out of the gutter!

My pores really needed it. Someone could have seen the dirt in them from the next city over. It might have explained why I have been so greasy lately, now if I can only stop tugging on my chin hair. (I gave that a trim too so I would be less likely to pull on it.)

It’s a bit funny because I liked where my facial hair was going. I didn’t shave my face for over a week, but I think I’ve said this before, my facial hair grows in little patches. It’s not awful, but after a while, I just start looking like a hobo instead of some suave guy with a beard. I don’t think that will ever happen. When am I going to be what I’ve always dreamt of: some bald-headed guy with nice facial hair? Never, it seems.

This guy loves shaving a lot more than I do. He also doesn’t have much to shave and he doesn’t have sensitive skin.

That’s when it’s easier to actually date and marry someone who can grow a full beard in 2-3 days. (I’m exaggerating. I have more body hair than my partner. People wouldn’t normally think so considering where he’s from. [Stop stereotyping, Ben!])

I do know that I hate shaving. Hate it, hate it, hate it. If I could just go to sleep, have it all removed by laser while I’m sleeping, and then never have to bother with it again, I’d do that. But, well, my dad was as hairy as an ape and I knew that I’d be blessed by the same coat of fur at some point. It caught up with me in my mid-30s.

I do have to shave though. No magical fairy is going to take away all my body hair.

Late last year, I joined the Dollar Shave Club which mails me 4 cartridges every month (or two) which has actually been great. I’m not here advertising for them, but it’s been nice. One of my least favourite things to do is shop for razor refills. They send it to me in the mail. I shave, and I don’t have to worry about buying new ones. The 6-razor cartridge refills I usually bought here were like $30+ for 6 of them. $11 for 4 every month is a pretty good deal, in my opinion. I never have to run out and grab refills anymore. Again, it’s nice. I like it. Now, if they’d just mail someone who can actually SHAVE me, that would be great.

Did I mention how much I hate shaving?

Did I mention how big my pores are?

What was that? I should just go now? Will do!

No Energy

Soz everybody. I don’t seem to have very much energy this week. Things have been a little bit busier, but no matter how much sleep I get, I can’t seem to get any rest. I’m not sure why. I’ve slept about 3-4 hours since I’ve gotten home today and I’m still tired.

I hope you’re doing well. I’ll say more later.